


The Scarlet Whore

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-11
Updated: 2006-08-11
Packaged: 2018-10-26 07:04:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10781946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: With no one around to keep him under control, he was free to play whatever twisted games kept him amused. And nothing entertained him more, lately, than making Evans angry.





	The Scarlet Whore

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Thanks to [](http://foreword.livejournal.com/profile)[**foreword**](http://foreword.livejournal.com/) for the beta  
[](http://community.livejournal.com/erotic_elves/profile)[ **erotic_elves**](http://community.livejournal.com/erotic_elves/) Fantas Fest fic for [](http://seventybyheart.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://seventybyheart.livejournal.com/)**seventybyheart**  


* * *

The club was smoky and loud, and he could barely hear himself think. It was crowded, men and women danced to the loud music played by the band on stage. They writhed together on the small dance floor, their bodies rubbed and grinded, and he realized that the Muggle way of dancing was like having sex with their clothes on. It stank of sweat, flowery perfume, alcohol, and arousal. He could see people shagging in the corner and might have watched more closely if he hadn’t been so angry.

Engaged.

James was engaged.

Sirius scowled as he took a drink of his whisky. It was flavorless compared to Firewhisky, and he was on his fourth glass already. He didn’t even have a slight buzz. Muggles were amusing with their awful music and garish clothes, but they didn’t know a damn thing about making a strong liquor. All he wanted at that moment was to get pissed, and it was like drinking flavored water.

Well, actually, what he wanted was for his best friend to start laughing and let them all in on the joke. Surely being engaged to Evans, of all people, was the biggest prank any of the Marauders had ever pulled off. He kept waiting during the _years_ of endless ‘Evans this’ and ‘Evans that’. He waited during the last year of ‘I’m Head Boy now, Padfoot, and I can’t be doing things like that anymore’ and ‘Lily’s waiting for me. We’ll go to Hogsmeade together some other time’. And now, with school behind them and a future that was uncertain and just a tad scary, James dropped the news that he’d asked Evans to marry him. Worse than that: the daft bint had actually said yes.

He’d like to be one of those selfless people that looked at things and said ‘she makes him happy and that’s all I care about’ or ‘I’m glad they’ve found happiness in these dreadful times’. He wasn’t like that, though. He was selfish and hated losing his best friend to _her_. He’d never liked Evans. Sure, she was shaggable and had nice tits, but she was condescending and obnoxious. He recognized those things easily even if James thought she was perfect and angelic. He was arrogant, after all, even if he’d not followed in the Black family footsteps, and he knew how she really was beneath that ‘I‘m a perfect student‘ charade. He saw the way she looked down her nose at everyone, as if they were beneath her and she was some superior bitch just because she read books and knew things.

The thing he hated most, the one thing that left him seething and angry no matter how happy James seemed to be and how pleased Remus and Peter were for the happy couple, was the fact that James had to change to be with her. Some would say he’d just grown up; that he’d reevaluated his priorities and figured out what he wanted from life. Sirius knew better. They’d been friends for years, best friends, and James was more of a brother to him than his own flesh and blood. This wasn’t really James. Head Boy? Engaged at eighteen? Talking about starting a bloody family when there was a war going on?

No, this man with shaggy hair and crooked glasses wasn’t his James anymore. His James wanted to travel around the world on a motorbike. He wanted to get pissed and shag, live without rules or being controlled. He wanted the things Sirius had always wanted. He didn’t want to marry Evans in the middle of a war and settle down to start having brat children before he was even twenty-one. That was all her. The scarlet whore.

His lips quirked as he looked around the small club and found James dancing with her. That was the perfect name for her. She was wearing a skimpy red dress that somehow didn’t clash with her hair. Stupid slag probably charmed it so it wouldn’t clash. She was just the type to do something like that. As he watched James’ hands move over her hips and her slim body grind against his best friend, he growled softly. _Mudblood bitch_.

“Fancy a game, Pad?”

He reluctantly tore his gaze from the dance floor to look at the man who had interrupted his glaring. Peter didn’t seem to notice his angry scowl, which wasn’t surprising. Peter never seemed to pick up on any of the undercurrents that were often prevalent amongst the Marauders these days. Good old Peter. Sweet and loyal, no idea the darkness that lurked within them all, even his Golden Boy hero James.

He gave Peter a crooked grin, unable to snap at him when he looked so hopeful for a game of billiards. “Not right now, Wormtail. You know I’m pants at Muggle games,” he reminded before he nodded at James. “Prongs is the one with the talent for billiards. You should ask him, if _she_ ever lets go of his leash long enough for him to play a game.”

“He’s wearing a leash?” Peter asked in a whisper.

Sirius laughed, a sharp bark before he took a drink of the weak whisky. “Nah, I was just being an arse.”

“Oh, okay,” Peter said before he nodded. “You’re always a bit of an arse, Pad.”

“Yeah, guess I am at that.”

“The song is ending so I’ll go see if Prongs wants to play.”

Sirius watched Peter circle around the gyrating Muggles to get to Prongs and the whore. His eyes narrowed when James looked at her as if seeking permission. His grip on his glass tightened until he felt it shatter, but he didn’t look away from them to see how badly his hand was cut. He bit his bottom lip when he felt the sticky alcohol on his palm, seeping into the cuts and burning enough to draw his attention, yet his gaze remained on them.

He smirked when _she_ looked right at him. She tilted her head slightly before she nodded once. Point to him. If she said no, Peter would whine and James would sulk because Muggle billiards was a favorite of his. She had to say yes regardless of whether or not she wanted him to go play for the next hour. Sirius leaned back in his seat, long legs kicked the stool opposite him, a satisfied smile on his lips. He was glad that Remus went home after James told them the news of the engagement. When Remus was around, he liked to pretend he was still a Prefect and would certainly have halted Sirius’ plans to irritate the bitch.

With no one around to keep him under control, he was free to play whatever twisted games kept him amused. And nothing entertained him more, lately, than making Evans angry. He glanced down and picked the pieces of glass from his palm. A quick discreet healing charm and his hand was fine. He rubbed it against his thigh, the worn leather of his trousers sticking to the whisky damp skin, and he looked back up in time to see Evans snog James. Peter was bobbing his head to the music and watching two Muggle birds dance together so he didn’t notice the scarlet whore move her thigh against Prong’s cock or suck his tongue until he was practically pushing her away so he could breathe.

James followed Peter to the back of the club where the billiards tables were set up, but Sirius didn’t watch them walk away. His gaze stayed focused on the whore who had taken James away from him. She laughed as their gazes met and tossed her long red hair over her shoulder. When she smirked, his easy smile faded. He refused to give her a point for making sure Prongs was so hard he’d never be able to concentrate on his game. _Whore_.

She left the dance floor and made her way to the ladie’s loo. Sirius looked from the now closed door of the loo to James and back again. A wicked grin crossed his lips as he grabbed James’ leather gloves from the pocket of his Muggle coat. He slipped the gloves on as he left the table. His hands were nearly the same size as James but just a bit bigger so they were slightly snug. He ran his leather clad fingers through his long black hair and walked confidently across the club with a determined smile on his full lips. The little slut wanted to play? He’d play and make sure she knew he was always going to win. He _had_ to win.

Sirius slowly opened the door to the loo and peaked inside. There was some blonde bird putting lipstick on and he could see the scarlet heels the whore was wearing beneath one of the stalls. Otherwise, it seemed empty. He grinned as he stepped inside and put his finger to his lips when the Muggle looked at him. The mirror was cracked and distorted, graffiti covered the walls, and it smelled like piss and sex. Yeah, Evans probably felt right at home here, he decided. Sirius stalked towards the blonde and caught her chin with his hand. His tongue licked beneath her lower lip before he whispered, “Looks good, love. Now run along.”

She stared at him for a moment before she rushed out of the loo. A quick locking charm prevented him from being disturbed. He didn’t place any muffling charms on the room, though, because he wanted James to hear his little whore screaming for more. Maybe then he’d see how worthless she truly was and realize he deserved better.

He leaned against a nearby stall and waited, listened to her pee and sing along to the song playing loudly outside the loo, and he felt himself get hard as he thought about what he had planned. He couldn’t stand the scarlet slut, but he knew she’d be a great little fuck. James wouldn’t stay with her if she was a bad lay, after all. Plus she had great tits and a nice arse so his plan wasn’t too awful for him. He didn’t actually want her, but he’d be able to fuck her and he’d enjoy it.

When the toilet flushed, he got ready. She opened the door and didn’t have a chance to take more than two steps out before he grabbed her and pulled her back against him. She scratched his hands, but he didn’t feel anything through the thick leather of James’ gloves. He pushed her back into the stall and chuckled darkly against her ear. “Is this what you want, slut?” he rasped as he tangled his hand in her long hair and pulled. “You want to be taken up against the wall in a dirty loo like the whore you are, don’t you?”

“Let me go now, you crazy bastard,” Evans demanded even as she pressed her arse against his cock and stopped her struggle to get away.

“Don’t make me gag you, Evans,” he warned. “You’d not like my methods, I’m sure.”

He moved his hands beneath the skirt of her dress. She protested and tried to slap his hands away, but he ignored her. His fingers gripped her upper thighs tightly, bruised her, and he pulled her back hard so he could press his erection against her arse.

“Do you feel my hands, bitch? Just think, a bit of James is here with us. Does it make you wet, the feel of leather on your sensitive skin? You probably want my hands, palms smoother than his, fingers longer,” he muttered against her neck. “Leather is all you get, whore. I wouldn’t feel your skin against mine for all the galleons at Gringotts. Nothing but a Mudblood slag, are you? Rubbing your arse against your fiance’s best friend’s cock and wanting him to fuck you hard, so hard you forget everything but his cock inside you making you scream.”

“God, Black. You do love to hear yourself talk, don’t you?” She laughed then, and Sirius growled softly before he bit her neck hard enough to make her gasp in surprise.

“Don’t laugh at me, whore.” He moved his hand higher and pressed his middle finger against her clit, rubbed her through her knickers, and heard her breath catch as she pushed back against him. “I’m going to make you beg me for it, Evans.”

“This is going too far, Black. Let me go.”

“Oh dear. You sound afraid,” he purred against her ear before he slid his hand into her knickers. He didn’t need to remove the leather glove to know she was wet. He could smell it on her, the perfume of whores, wet and ready for him to fuck her then and there with no thought to the man she supposedly loved. “Scared you’re going to have to admit this is what you really want, Evans? James with his gentle caresses and tender kisses doesn’t do it for you, does it? You want to be fucked, hard and fast, treated like the dirty slut you really are beneath the prim jumpers and prissy sneers.”

“I love James,” she hissed as his finger pushed inside her. Her upper body fell forward and she braced her left palm against the wall.

“How often have you done this?” he demanded as she assumed the position as if she did it all the time. “How many blokes have you shagged in filthy toilet stalls with your knickers around your knees and your cunt gripping them until they come all over you?”

“Stop talking and get on with it,” she snapped as her hand moved beneath her red dress to lower her knickers. “This is what you want, isn’t it, Black? You want to fuck me because James has, because you can’t stand the idea of him having something you can’t have. Spoiled little boy. That’s all you are, all you’ll ever be. He’s a man, and you hate that you’ll never be even half as good as he is because you’re a whiny child who refuses to grow up.”

“Shut up, whore,” Sirius growled as he pulled her hair hard. “You don’t know anything about me and James. You have _no idea_ what we mean to each other. You’re nothing, Evans. A whore with dirty blood who doesn’t deserve him at all.”

Before she could reply, he turned her head and kissed her roughly. He bit her lips and punished her for having James, for taking his best friend, for everything.

When he let her mouth go, he glared at her. “I hate you,” he muttered as he moved his wet hand from her cunt. He sucked his finger while she watched, tasted leather and sex, and he laughed. “So fucking wet his glove stinks of arousal and sex.”

He pulled the glove off with his teeth, let it drop to the dirty floor, and then he pulled off the other. Hisaze didn’t leave hers as he unzipped his leather trousers and freed his erection. He didn’t even bother pushing his trousers down, just let his cock out because that’s all the slut deserved. She leaned forward again, pulled her knickers lower, got ready for him like the slut she was at heart. Her cunt was hot and wet when he thrust his cock along her lips, not entering her yet, teasing her. He gripped her hips, pulled her dress up to gather in his clenched hands, and rocked his hips against her.

“What do you want, _Evans_?” he purred against her neck as he leaned over her. “Tell me what you want and, if you ask nicely, I might just give it to you.”

“Fuck you, Black. I don’t beg,” she taunted as she pulled the knickers lower and shifted, her fingers resting against her upper thigh as she pushed down against his cock.

“Oh, you’ll beg for me, Evans,” he growled as he reached up and ripped the front of her dress. “Would you look at that? Little whore’s not wearing a bra.” He tightened his hand on her hip as he lunged forward and squeezed her tit hard. He rolled her hard nipple, tugged and pulled, twisted.

“I won’t.” She leaned up so her back was against his chest and her fingers tangled in his long hair as she raised her arm. She kissed him then as he pulled at her nipple and thrust his cock along her soaking cunt.

He growled against her mouth as they fought for control, teeth hit and lips bled. He tasted coppery bitterness on his tongue and sucked her lip. Dirty blood. He groaned as he reached around her, his hand between their spread legs, and he angled his cock before he pushed forward hard.

She was so wet he slid in easily. She gasped and let go of his hair, her head fell forward, and she shoved her body back against his until he was buried balls deep inside her. He wasted no time and began to fuck her deep and fast. Her tits bounced forward on every stroke of his cock, her lips were parted as she moaned and whimpered, and she eagerly met his ferocious thrusts.

“Dirty little whore,” he muttered above her as he fucked her. “Filthy slut.”

“Bastard,” she moaned as he kneaded her tit and bruised her more with rough squeezes and pinching fingers.

His hand left her hip as he kept his balance by his grip on her tit. He shoved the skirt of her dress up and pressed his thumb against her arse. “Should fuck you here,” he murmured as he thrust so hard that he sent her face against the wall of the loo. “Whores like it in their arse, after all.”

“You’d know about that, wouldn’t you?” She laughed softly as she rubbed her cheek against the graffiti covered wall. “Like it in your arse so much you’ve probably forgotten what a woman feels like.”

“Bitch.” He sneered as he pulled his thumb from her arse and reached around to find her clit. “Don’t talk about things you’ll never understand, slut.”

She laughed huskily as she pushed away from the wall. Her muscles began to squeeze around him and he heard her breath catch. He rubbed her clit harder, firm circles with the pad of his thumb, his body rocked against hers hard and his cock slid in deep and fast.

“Come for me, whore,” he urged as he twisted her clit. She came with a low cry and he chuckled above her as she shuddered and clenched at his cock. He let her breast go and pulled her hair, scarlet locks against tan skin, and he didn’t last five more strokes before he spilled into her. He grunted as he came, and didn’t pull out until he was completely spent.

His hand moved between her legs, felt his come and hers slick on her cunt and upper thighs. He coated two fingers before he moved them against her lips. She opened her mouth and licked them clean, moaned as she sucked their come from his hand.

“Mudblood whore,” he whispered as traced her lips with his saliva-wet fingers.

“Pureblood bastard,” she retorted as she stood and pulled her knickers up. The slut didn’t even bother to clean their come from her.

“You don’t deserve him,” he snarled as he tucked his spent cock into his trousers and zipped them. She fixed her ripped dress and he had the urge to rip it again to show James the bites, bruises, and scratches she’d not yet removed.

“And you do?” She snorted as she turned around in the stall to face him. A smirk was on her lips as she looked at him. “He’s mine, Black. I’ve got him, and I’ve no intentions of ever letting him go. Now be a good boy and go buy him a drink. Peter is probably beating him at that silly game by now.”

He refused to move when she tried to pass him to leave the stall. She laughed softly and had the audacity to pat his head as if he were a spoiled child angry about not having his sweets before dinner. She pushed past him and stepped up to the broken mirror, where he watched her fix her hair and wipe blood and come from her lips. “I hate you.”

She walked to the door of the loo and released the locking charm without bothering to use her wand. She turned to look at him and smirked. “Sure you do, Black,” she said before she laughed, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and left the loo.

The End


End file.
